The World He Came Back To
by Avia Tantella Scott
Summary: In the cold darkness of winter, a Faun awakens to discover that he has unknowingly participated in an event that will change the course of Narnian history. Now, if he could only figure out what, exactly, that event was...


The world was slowly coming back to him.

It was the sounds that came first, muted and muffled as if they were coming to him through water or a thick pair of earmuffs. At first it was nothing more than a faint rumble, which then grew steadily louder until he could distinguish some small changes in pitch and short spurts of quiet in between. The sounds were low and deep, and he had the sudden realization that they must be voices, many of them, surrounding him, but so detached and far away. Absently, he thought he might try his own voice, but he was oddly unconcerned when nothing came of it.

Next came light, a break to the endless darkness in which he'd found himself. It, too, was muted and dull, like the shining of an old and tired star barely able to pierce through the black of night. The light was warm, though, golden and calming though he felt no panic. In fact, he felt very little at all. His emotions seemed detached, like he knew he'd had them once and still understood them, but they no longer affected him, and he couldn't quite remember how they ever had.

As time passed, the light and the sounds grew brighter and clearer. Dark, formless shapes crowded across his vision only to disappear, and soon he could distinguish a difference from one noise to another. There must be many voices, he reasoned, and perhaps they belonged to the shapes. Perhaps they were ghosts, and he had somehow reached that place that was said to lie beyond the realm of the living.

The world was slowly coming back to him, and now that it was, he wasn't quite sure when or how it had slipped away. He was vaguely curious, and growing ever more so as the moments, or perhaps hours, passed. The thought of having passed into that Other Place seemed to have awakened emotions that heretofore had been only blurry memories, and he found that he was _feeling_ more than he had just a minute before.

Then, as suddenly as it had been slow, the world was there, and he had to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the surprise of it. The light wasn't harsh, but it was more than he'd expected, and the hubbub of noises hurt his ears at first. Another moment passed and he was able to finally identify the different voices and recognize the faces swarming around him, ever in motion, chattering like a gaggle of Hens all in a tizzy about something. It was not the Other Place after all, but his friend Leetum's burrow, and these were not ghosts, but rather a handful of his closest friends.

"By the Lion! I think he's come back to us!" someone cried out, and he immediately wished that she hadn't, for now everyone closed in around him, blocking the light with a full circle of heads all crowded together to peer down upon him. Such an odd assortment of faces, he thought blankly, from Leetum's long and striped Badger nose to the humanish faces of the two Fauns, to the Hare's twitchy whiskers and long ears that kept tapping the Squirrel across from her on the top of his head.

"Nabius!" someone said. It took him a moment to realize that he was the one being addressed, and another to discern by whom. "Nabius, old boy! That was quite a performance!"

"Gave us quite a start, you did!"

"For certain, for certain! Never in all my days-!"

"Poor fellow, he's in shock. Some air, good Beasts, give him some air!"

The request did little, as no one seemed to want to give up his spot in the circle even to allow the better restoration of their dear and incapacitated friend. If anything, they closed in around him all the tighter. They were all talking at once now, apparently arguing over what was to be done with him.

"Thank the Lion 'twas only us here! Imagine if he'd done it out in the open, with the Trees and everyone else to see!"

"Nothing for it but to take him to the Centaurs. They'll know what to do with him."

"Just wait till my missus—!"

"—best wait for cover of darkness—"

"—as soon as possible—"

"—before we forget—"

"—best news in ages, you can bet that Aslan—"

"—always said he was a peculiar one, Nabius—"

"—a most unusual Faun, to be sure—"

The subject in question, Nabius by name, upon trying it, finally found that he had full use of his voice.

"What's happened?" he managed to croak out, though no one heard him.

"We could dig a tunnel to reach them, then no one would see!"

"—far too long, waste of time—"

"Just like a Mole to suggest such a thing—"

"Just like a Hare to leap to action without considering the consequences—"

"Could someone please tell me what's happened?" Nabius cried, a little louder. Discovering that he was lying flat on his back in the middle of the hard-packed dirt floor, he attempted to sit up but was quickly and firmly pushed back down by Pindito the Hedgehog.

"You just rest now, Nabius," he said gently. "You're in good hands, you are, and we're going to take you to the Centaurs, what's more. We'll set it to rights."

"But what's _happened_?" Nabius repeated, though Pindito didn't hear him, having moved away to clean up a ceramic cup that had somehow shattered on the floor next to the prostrate Faun. Nabius glanced about, searching for anyone who might help him. Raegus the Mole and Minglet the Hare were involved in a rather heated argument, if the twitching of Minglet's nose was any indication. The two Fauns, one his brother Nelius, were looking pensive as the Chief Squirrel, Harmon, spoke quietly and fiercely. Leetum had retreated toward the woodstove and was removing a pot that had begun to smoke. For as much talk as was apparently being done about him, no one seemed too overly concerned about his current condition.

Nabius flexed his arms and wiggled his fingers, lifted and lowered each one of his hooves, and even twitched his short tail as best as he could as he lay upon it. He seemed to have all of his faculties, but still something was amiss. His head ached almost imperceptibly, but the others would have no way of knowing that. What exactly were the Centaurs going to set to right? _What had happened?_

His thoughts were interrupted by Nelius kneeling down by his head.

"We're taking you to the Centaurs," he said softly, "and it's probably best done if we carry you. A group seeking help for a sick friend will draw far less attention than the eight of us walking together at this time of night. Given the recent attacks…" he trailed off.

An involuntary shudder passed through Nabius's body. "Will you at least please tell me what's happened?" Nabius pleaded. "Please, brother? You cannot simply carry me away without telling me _why._ Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Nelius's face was mostly blank, though Nabius thought he detected a hint of pity in his eyes. "That's best left to Pellius and his sons. Don't worry, brother… All will be explained in due time. I won't let anything more happen to you that's not the will of Aslan himself."

Frustrated and just a little frightened, Nabius allowed himself to be deposited onto a haphazardly-constructed stretcher hurriedly fashioned from a table-top and its four disconnected legs. Minglet gently tucked blankets around him, her paws deftly wrapping his head and neck in a thick woolen scarf. The rest, having apparently finished their arguing, saw to the woodstove, put away the few dishes and cups and the rest of the bread, and bundled themselves against the cold.

Nonetheless, it hit them like a wall of solid ice as soon as the sturdy wooden door of the burrow was opened and the little ragtag group trudged out into the bitter wind. It was winter, of course; it had been winter for sixteen years now. The darkness and cold were nothing new, though he still had not become accustomed to it when he had once known a Narnia of springtime and flowers and a sun that warmed your skin until you tingled all over with the joy that its touch brought you. He still could not accept this frozen desert, where food was scarce and the people lived in fear of anything that interrupted the carefully constructed routine of their lives. Routine was safe. Routine avoided notice and suspicion. Routine meant survival to adhere to the routine for yet another bitterly cold and joyless day. It had been a long sixteen years.

He remembered a statue he'd seen just a week or so ago while journeying home from a similar visit to Leetum's burrow, and it made his heart sick anew just as it had when he'd first beheld it. They were only cubs, really, too young to remember a time before there was snow, and much too young to fully understand the precarious world they'd been born into only a few months before. It was their youth that brought their downfall; youth and the rambunctiousness that the young of any species so often possess in spades. A snowball fight after the previous night's snowfall was too much to resist, and they'd paid dearly for their fun when their barks of delight caught the attention of the Witch passing by in her sledge.

Perhaps they were the lucky ones, Nabius thought bitterly. Turned to stone in a rare moment of joy, unable to feel the cold of the winter and the ever-growing despair of their countrymen. They, at least, would be smiling until this cursed winter found its end.

If it ever found its end.

It was colder than usual lying motionless on the hard wood of the table without the motion of trudging through the snowdrifts to keep him warm. He was glad for the blankets the she-Hare Minglet had piled upon him, but the icy air still stung his cheeks, where his thin beard did little to ward off the chill. It was so silent nowadays; not even the wind whistled like it used to. Aside from the crunching of the hoof- and paw-steps of his companions and the heavy breathing of those carrying his stretcher, the night was eerily quiet. It did nothing to help his anxiety. Where once the quiet stillness of a snowy winter night provided a welcomed moment of peace and appreciation for the beauty of the world around him, now each snowbank might conceal one of the Witch's spies. Each bit of snow that fell from a branch might mean a Tree betraying their movements; at any moment Her False Majesty's abhorred wolves might be upon them. Going out at this time of night was a risky business. Something very important indeed must have happened while he was unconscious.

The minutes passed like frigid lifetimes and he tried very hard to stay still and keep from shivering. It was troublesome enough for the two Fauns to carry the stretcher with Minglet and etum, given the disparity in height and body structure, but they were managing it well and without complaint. As they trudged along, Nabius tried to judge their location, but everything looks different when one is staring straight up instead of all around. Soon he gave up.

At last the party halted, and Nabius heard the hushed sounds of Pindito and Harmon calling softly at the entrance to the caverns where the Centaurs had taken refuge. Nabius remembered a time when the idea of a Centaur abiding anywhere but under their beloved and all-knowing Stars was unthinkable, but these were different and dangerous days. When the snow-clouds came and the Stars were masked, when the winter temperatures plunged below anything even the oldest of the sage creatures had ever known, the noble Centaurs were forced indoors for the first time in known history. Pellius, the unofficial but undisputed leader, the eldest and wisest of Centaurs, now made his home with his small family in a large system of caverns protected from the elements. It was within these caves that he taught his sons and grandsons to know and love skies that hadn't been seen for years, to read the signs they might one day reveal again.

Within a moment the stretcher was moving, more quickly this time as the party scurried in out of the cold and away from the eyes that may or may not have been watching. Nabius watched as the cloudy black sky was interrupted by the uneven and craggy roof of a rock tunnel that eventually gave way to a high ceiling peppered with stalactites of all shapes and sizes. A drop of water splashed on his cheek and ran down through his beard, making him jump.

At long last, the stretcher was lowered, and before anyone could prohibit him Nabius sat straight up and looked around him. The stretcher-bearers were moving away, massaging sore shoulders and arms and hands and paws. The other members of their party were being served cups of some steaming liquid or another by the she-Centaurs and children. When a hot wooden mug was pressed into his eager hands by a grave-faced young Centauress, he found the words to thank her and drank deeply of the herbal concoction inside. It tasted earthy, but warmed him rapidly from the inside out. Nabius adjusted his blankets so that he was well bundled, and was grateful that his bearers had placed him near the low, wide fire that dominated the center of this particular grotto.

When all were served and seated around the glistening coals, the Centaurs looking solemn and his fellows flushed according to their kind from the exertion of the walk and the effect of the tea, Pellius began to speak. Despite being seated with his dark legs and tail tucked close to his body, Pellius commanded the same attention, deference, and respect that he would have had he been standing to his full, impressive height. There was a wisdom in his bright eye that Nabius had never seen equaled, and his bare skin shone like bronze in the harsh, flickering light of the fire before him. To his right and left sat his twin sons, Jaewit and Endorn, as solemn and magnificent as their father and as alike to each other as Nabius's own two hooves. Around them clustered the others of their clan, small in number but mighty in knowledge, wisdom, and nobility.

"Now, Harmon," Pellius said, his deep voice rumbling like that of the cave itself. "Tell me what has happened that has brought you to us at this dangerous hour."

_Yes,_ Nabius thought. _Finally, please. _He found himself leaning closer to where Harmon sat to his left.

As Chief Squirrel, Harmon was the most senior of the members of their little party. All traces of the natural jitteriness of his species were gone as he related the tale's beginning.

"We eight were gathered in Leetum's home for a little supper and talk and perhaps a game or two of snap-jokey before the evening was done. We'd had our supper, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Things have been quiet in our part of the Forest, especially since the terrible thing that was done to the Bears' twins."

If the mention of the cubs' horrible fate affected the Centaur, he did not show it. His face was impassive; he heard all and revealed nothing.

"Raegus here was just reaching for another slice of the bread that his wife had made fresh and special for the occasion when we all heard a soft voice suddenly beginning to speak."

Nabius's brows furrowed. He could recall Raegus mentioning wanting "just one more slice of the ol' girl's bread," but after that there was only darkness. Perhaps this was where what had truly happened to him would be revealed.

"It was Nabius."

The Faun in question was acutely aware of every eye in the room turning to him, and his palms began to sweat even as his mouth dropped open slightly in shock. Surely he hadn't…? He didn't remember saying anything…

"What did the Faun say, Squirrel?" Pellius asked calmly, considering Nabius with a gaze that made the Faun feel as though the Centaur was reading the words written on his very soul.

"It was quite soft at first, but it was all in rhyme…" here Harmon began to falter. "There was a great bit about Cair Paravel, and someone named Adam…"

"The four empty thrones, that was important!" Minglet chimed in. "He said something about the thrones being filled. Someone named Adam and someone named Eve, them and their children."

"No, no, you've got it wrong!" Raegus interrupted. "It were two _Sons_ of Adam and two _Daughters_ of Eve. I don't remember the rhyme exactly, because we was all just standin' there agog and halfways forgot to remember what we was listenin' to."

"But then there was a fairly long bit about it meaning the end of the reign of the White Witch," Minglet said.

"Not just the end of her reign," Harmon put in, remembering now, "but of her life!"

A heavy silence met that proclamation, broken only by Nabius softly, incredulously whispering, "I said all that?"

"As Aslan lives and breathes, so you did! Gave us all a fright, too, the way your eyes were screwed open like they weren't seein' anything at all!" Pindito cried.

"And his voice! Went straight to my bones, it did! Eerie!" Minglet shuddered at the very thought.

"Did he say anything else?" Pellius asked, his voice still betraying nothing.

"He sure did," Harmon continued. "And after that first bit you'd better believe that we paid close attention to the rest of it."

Nabius's own brother Nelius spoke up then, his voice soft but firm and confident as he recited the rhymes.

_"When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone  
Sits at Cair Paravel in throne  
The evil time will be over and done.  
"Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,  
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,  
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,  
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."_

Nelius's words hung in the air like the potent smoke drifting up from the fiery coals. No one spoke for a good while, each absorbed in his own thoughts about the meaning of such an event. Nabius was completely at a loss; he didn't know what to think. He was shocked and self-conscious and full of wonder, but at the same time frightened at this thing that had taken control of his body and spoken through him. He felt the stares of his companions burning into him, but he kept his head down and gazed intently into the wavering light of the coals to avoid having to answer their questioning gazes.

At last, just at Nabius thought he might go mad, Pellius broke the silence.

"There is our hope," he said, with the voice of someone who has finally reached the end of a long wait, "given to us by this most unassuming and honored of Fauns. No darkness can last forever, no evil is too powerful to be undone. The Witch will fall, and spring will come. The stars are veiled, but He has made the future clear.

"_Aslan has spoken_."

The cavern was deathly quiet following his proclamation, as if all sound had gone out of the world except for the reverberation of the deep, rich tones of the Centaur's voice. But yet that silence was filled with everything; the world suddenly seemed bigger, fuller… more important, somehow. Even the air in that dark cave seemed alive with hope and wonder and the promise of a future; it was thick with it so that Nabius could barely draw a breath and each moment seemed too precious to ruin by speaking.

Nabius the Faun, the unknowing vessel through whom so much had happened that night, sat in silence as deep as the rest, though his pounding heart was filled with a wonder that was difficult to contain even if he had had the words to give it voice. Hope, that weak and faint little light that had been so long near extinction in the deepest recesses of his heart, was being fanned again into a blaze that threatened to consume him. The world had come back to him once tonight, and now he had the promise that it would come back to him again. No one save Aslan knew how long it would take, but Nabius felt now that he could wait an entire lifetime if he had to.

He was certain that the world to come would be more beautiful than any he had ever seen.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Didn't want to put anything at the top for fear of ruining the story! Special thanks to **cap_red **and **WingedFlight** over at NFFR for their very patient assistance with titling this piece, and thanks to **writeonkate** for her input about Centaur habitation! Any mistakes or type-o's, however, are my own. **Snacky** was kind enough to provide a beta, and I know the story is much the better for it!

Also, a random note on the main character's name... In doing my research, I discovered that in both Islam and Judaism the word "Nabi" is commonly used for a prophet. I Greek- / Narnia-fied it by adding the -us... and there's your fun fact for the day! :)


End file.
